


sweater weather

by georgerus63



Series: mercedes universe [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Peter is sick and James is worried, Sickfic, barely there, but mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:56:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28504842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgerus63/pseuds/georgerus63
Summary: Peter refuses to change out of his wet clothes and James has to take care of his sick husband
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell/Torger "Toto" Wolff, Peter "Bono" Bonnington/James Vowles
Series: mercedes universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087988
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	sweater weather

**Author's Note:**

> This story is entirely fictional but I hope you're enjoying it!! Have fun reading :)

It starts with Silverstone, bless the cliché English weather to make an appearance in the worst situations. 

Peter is standing in the garage, lips pulled down in a deep frown as he watches the rain coming down, blocking not only the view but also any free training that is supposed to happen.

He's soaked, having forgotten his laptop and headphones in the motorhome from the debrief before and the only option to get them back functioning was wrapping them into his jacket, resulting in a very unwanted cold shower for him.

His husband James frowns at him from his place at the pit wall and Peter just shrugs as the white shirt clings uncomfortably to his pale skin and he starts shivering.

A quiet _ping_ signalises him that he got a message and when he looks down, it's James.

\- _Do you maye want to change your shirt?_

Peter rolls his eyes and shakes his head, getting a pout in response.

_We're at work -_

_\- That was only a metaphorical question, get changed now_

_I'm fine -_

He stubbornly turns towards his work station as he hears steps beside him.

"Bono, you're soaked." Lewis comments dryly, staring at his engineer while the shorter starts his laptop, eyes fixed on one of the many displays, busying himself with numbers and data from the little they could get out of the seven laps Lewis managed to drive before FP1 has been stopped.

"It's not that bad." The Brit argues back lamely and takes his jacket, pulling it over his wet shirt to at least create some sort of warmth.

"You should really change into something dry or you'll get sick." Lewis continues as Toto now steps closer from wherever he has now appeared from.

"I'm fine, it's not that bad." Peter complains, debating if he should just put on his headphones and ignore them but then Toto is his boss and he likes the Austrian. 

Him and James are very close with Toto and his boyfriends Lewis and George, having nightly little meet-ups over the winter break, regularly enjoying some adult fun in their homes, changing locations to avoid getting caught. It was the only reasonable idea they somehow could pull up with after exploring they had similar dynamics in their relationships. It has also resulted in bringing them a lot closer.

James, who now has left his place at the pitwall to join them, seems to sense Peter is not in the mood to discuss this, raising an eyebrow towards him. He knows he's acting like a brat and he should just change but he's feeling stubborn today, an itch he simply can't explain. James will get back to him tonight for it, Peter knows it.

To his surprise his husband then just wordlessly drops a dry Mercedes sweater next to his laptop before going back to his place at the pitwall, not even a word about his disappointment leaving his lips. Toto turns back to his place next to Bono, exchanging a few words with Riki on the other side of their engineer aisle while Lewis turns back to his car.

"You think we can drive anytime soon?" The driver asks and Bono sighs, eying the grey clouds and the masses of water that fall down on the asphalt.

"Negative." The engineer answers, suppressing a shiver from the coldness that is seeping through his body.

Lewis smirks, "Alright then, time to get you some hot tea."

He feels James and Toto's piercing glances on his back when they're both leaving, Lewis busy to text George already what has happened while Peter tries not to think about possible consequences James has planned for him.

He isn't sure if his shivers are coming from James cold stares or the wet clothes on his skin.

-

The weather doesn't change over the next few days but Lewis proves once again why he is a seven time world champion, working on that 8th title. He gets not only the pole position but wins the race easily despite the rain making it hard to see, overtake or simply do anything without putting the car into the wall.

By the end of the race Peter has already a massive headache pounding behind his temples, feeling not in the mood to celebrate their win in any way, not even the possible excitement of some post-race sex with James can lighten him up. He just wants to climb into his bed and sleep for a very long time, preferably over the free weekend until he has to leave for Hungary.

But the team is happy, Lewis hugging him tightly, Toto gently squeezing his shoulder for his work and James presses a kiss on his lips in a hidden corner in the hospitality, face bright from the 1-2 they achieved.

But his bad luck is just starting here (or continuing, depending on the view) when Sky wants to interview him and Lewis and Toto doesn't take no as an answer.

He lets himself be dragged in front of the reporters, putting on a smile on his face as the cameras point at him and Lewis while he wishes for nothing more than to disappear. 

And then it starts to rain again and Peter could scream, because he's just wearing a light sweater over his shirt, rain jacket god knows where, being soaked immediately. And of course, they don't have an umbrella anywhere close…

-

It's still dark outside when he cracks his eyes open, a weird pain hammering behind his temples, making him squint his eyes shut. They came back late at night, around one in the morning, the debrief having taken longer than usual, mixed with a way too long celebration, followed by a hot shower once they arrived home before dropping into their bed half dead.

Peter blindly grabs his phone, the clock showing it's four in the morning.

He groans quietly which makes his throat burn, it feels dry like someone has wiped over it with sandpaper.

"Peter?" James moves beside him and suddenly the room turns bright, his husband having turned on the bedside lamp. "What's up?" The older mumbles, reaching out to grab Peter's hand.

"Am not feeling good." Peter rasps out, a rough cough escaping his lips and James moves, helping Peter to sit up to breathe better.

James brushes his hands over his cheeks, a frown on his face. "Shit, you're running a fever."

His husband quickly gets up and leaves the bedroom and Peter just closes his eyes, already slipping back to sleep when he hears some loud noises from downstairs, James wildly cursing.

 _What did he do now?_ Peter asks himself as he slightly opens his eyes as James comes back to their bedroom, carrying a bowl with water and some towels, setting it down on the small nightstand. 

Peter watches him closely as he pulls some tablets from his pyjama pockets and pops one out. Peter just opens his mouth, accepting the pill James pushes past his lips, still looking worried at his smaller husband who looks like a mess.

Sadly not a hot mess, just like a sick mess.

"Did you swallow it?" James asks softly and gently puts a fever thermometer into his mouth when Peter nods.

As they wait for the result, James starts wetting the towels in the cold water, putting it on Peter's forehead to cool him down a bit, making sure the man is lying comfortably.

"39.7°, pretty high." James whispers and takes the thermometer away. "That's the wet shirts fault."

Peter smiles weakly up at him and James can't stay mad, especially if his husband looks like this. Face pale, deep rings under his eyes, hair pressed down from the feavery sweat.

The kettle downstairs is disrupting their short moment as James leaves Peter alone to get him his tea as the Brit closes his eyes, tiredness already taking over again.

His body feels weak and numb, joints hurting, his throat is burning and the pain in his head seems to increase with every minute.

"Here's some herbal tea, be careful, it's very hot." James whispers as he presses the mug carefully in his husband's hands as soon as he opens his eyes.

"Thanks, you're the best." Peter rasps out, sending a shaky smile towards him.

"Always for you," James brushes softly over his arm as Peter takes some sips of the steaming tea. It soothes the burn in his throat a bit but strength leaves his body soon again and James is already there, taking the mug from his hand, placing it aside. He then pulls the blanket back over the two, turning off the light before carefully brushing through Peter's hair as his sick husband falls back into a restless sleep.

-

He feels even worse the next morning when James shakes him awake, pressing a new mug with hot tea into his hands, placing another package with medicine on the small nightstand. 

"I'm going to the factory now but I will be back for lunch, bringing you some soup."

"You don't have to," Peter sighs as James changes the cold towel, worry written all over his face as Peter is still burning with fever.

"Don't argue with me," James huffs and rolls his eyes. "The factory is only a few minutes away and I'm not letting you alone a whole day if you're having such a high fever."

"Did you tell Toto already?" Peter asks, throat still sore and he coughs, barely able to breath as his whole body shakes in pain.

"Hm, I did. Maybe I should call in sick and take you to the doctor." James fills some more tea into his cup, having prepared a whole teapot.

Peter vehemently shakes his head, as much as it is possible with his headaches and the cloth on his forehead. "Noo! You need to go, we have to prepare for Hungary. Wait I need to prepare too, what if Lewis-"

James presses him down into his cushion as soon as Peter tries to get up, stern expression on his face.

"Peter-"

"No James, I can't-" He starts babbling and James eyes him even more worried now, his eyes seem glassy from the fever and he looks paler than last night.

"Stop." Peter presses his lips together, eyes unfocused. "If you're not willing to stay here, I'm tying you to the bed."

"Kinky." Peter smiles weakly, trying to lift up the mood a bit but James can clearly see how tired he really is.

"Don't even think that I already forgot that you disobeyed me by not changing clothes when I told you to. You're getting your punishment once you're not sick anymore." James huffs, disbelief written all over his face as eyes the small sick lump of his husband that is cuddled under the thick blanket.

"Hmm sure. Now, don't you have to get ready?" Peter asks, fingers tangled loosely with James, his gold wedding band glinting in the soft morning light.

"You're just looking for an excuse to see me in a white dress shirt, I know how much you love it."

Peter smiles gently up to him and James' heart hurts a lot at the thought of having to leave him alone.

-

When James comes back as promised around lunch, hot soup from their cafeteria in a bag, it's absolutely silent in their house and worry creeps on James when he calls out for Peter and receives no answer.

"Peter? Are you up?" He quickly toes his shoes off and puts the soup down in the kitchen, together with a small paper bag from the pharmacy he came by on his way.

He bought some medicine against the coughing and the fever and takes it with him as he makes his way upstairs.

Peter is cuddled into the sheets, only his face poking out and James would find it absolutely adorable if his husband wouldn't look even worse than this morning.

He's quickly by his side, pressing a hand against his skin, hissing at the hot feeling.

"Peter? Hey come on, sweetheart, wake up." He gently shakes him awake but he gets more worried when Peter barely opens his eyes, mumbling nonsense.

"Fuck," he hisses loudly, preparing the medicine against the fever, pushing the small cups against Peter's lips. A flash of relief floods through as Peter at least seems to swallow it. He puts a fresh cold cloth against his forehead and pries the blanket away, putting more cold cloths down on his arms and legs, a trick he learned from his mother years ago.

Peter mumbles a bit more, restlessly moving and James carefully holds his arms down.

When his husband stops moving, he pulls out his phone, dialing Toto's number.

"Huh James, everything okay?" The Austrian picks up immediately, "Why are you phoning me instead of coming upstairs?"

"Well," James scratches his forehead and sighs loudly. "Remember when I told you Peter is sick? I'm f back at home, his fever got a lot worse, I need to keep an eye on him, maybe bring him to a doctor if it gets worse. I can work from here if you allow it-"

"Of course you can. Have you got your laptop with you?"

"My laptop?" James frowns as he remembers that he forgot it as he left in a rush as soon as he had time. "Uhh, no?"

"Okay, we'll bring it over later."

"Thanks, uh well, yeah I think I need to go." James chokes out when he hears a weak cough coming from the bed, Peter moving again. He quickly ends the call, rushing over to see that Peter slightly opens his eyes, weakly searching for James.

"I don't feel good." He murmurs, voice barely there and James wipes the wet cloth over his face again, the skin still burning up.

"I know. I'll drive you to the doctor. Or maybe call an ambulance-" He starts stumbling over his own words, panic rising in his chest as Peter's eyes start closing again. 

"Tomorrow. If it is not better tomorrow, then…" 

James stares down at him, confusion written all over his face. "No, if it's not better by tonight we're going to the hospital. Peter this is serious, you could die." The last part is barely a whisper and James has to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart and make those dark thoughts disappear. 

There's no reaction coming from the smaller and James has to double check if his husband is even breathing, shoving the thermometer back into his mouth.

40.5°

That's not good and James quickly grabs the packaging of the fever medicine, checking how much more he can give Peter before opening Google in his half panic, searching for something else that might bring Peter's fever down.

God if his husband wouldn't have been such an incredible stupid idiot, he wouldn't be lying here, sick to death.

He doesn't know how long he sits by the bedside, holding Peter's hand, staring at his face to make sure he's still breathing until the doorbell rings and he has to get up. His joints crack after sitting on the ground for so long and he slowly makes his way downstairs. There are voices coming from outside the door and through the glass he sees Toto, probably Lewis or George lurking somewhere close.

He's right, when he opens the door he gets greeted by the trio, hands full with bags.

"James, how is he?" Toto speaks first as the strategist steps aside to let them inside.

"His fever is worse, he hasn't been conscious since lunchtime." He mumbles, hands rubbing over his face. "I gave him some medicine to get his fever down but if it's not down in a few hours, I'll take him to the hospital."

"Have you eaten already?" Lewis asks next, marching to the kitchen where James forgot the soup he has brought back with him.

"No I- I was with him the whole time." 

Lewis hums and takes out the food containers from his bag, filling some of the soup into a cup.

"It's just broth, maybe you can get Bono to drink at least some of it, he will need the food. We brought sandwiches for you too." 

"Ah thanks but that wasn't necessary-"

"Yes it was." George interrupts him, while pressing a bag with more medicine into his hands. James thanks him, a smile crossing his face for the first time today before Toto ushers both of his boyfriends outside.

"You have a race soon, you can't get sick. I'm staying here in case James needs help if we're bringing him to the hospital but you two drive home. Now."

"But-" George opens his mouth to protest but one stern look from Toto is enough to shut the young boy and Lewis gently pulls him towards the door, both of them quickly saying goodbye, wishing Peter a quick recovery before they disappear.

Toto wordlessly hands him the mug and a wrapped sandwich, both making their way upstairs back to Peter who hasn't moved much since James has left.

"Peter? Hey, wake up, I have some soup for you." James puts the mug down and together with Toto they help him to sit up against the headboard, the small man looking around disoriented but accepts the steaming mug immediately as Toto helps James to change the cold cloths.

"How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts. Everything hurts." Peter takes a sip from the mug, looking miserable and like he can't hold it any longer. Toto quickly takes it away before he can spill the hot broth over himself and pulls the blanket further away from him.

"If nothing helps we have to sit him in a cold bath." He whispers towards James.

"You think it's not going down from alone?"

Toto lightly nods and James stares down at his husband. "Give him some more of the fever juice. And then get some rest too, you look like you can need it." 

Wordlessly James takes the bottle and fills the small cup for it before pressing it against Peter's lip, the man neither resisting or reacting and swallows it obediently. 

"If he's fit again I'll have a word with him about wet clothes." James grumbles but there is no anger in his voice, the worry too big to be fuming over the stupidity of the man he married.

"Now, I'll be downstairs if you need me." Toto helps him to lay Peter down again and then excuses himself, leaving the bedroom with a last glance at the two.

James decides to take a short shower and changes into something comfortable before he slips under the covers next to Peter, who is totally knocked out again. 

It takes only a few minutes before James gets pulled into a deep sleep too.

-

It's dark when someone shakes him awake, James can make Toto's face out in the dim light that's falling into the room from the corridor.

"His fever is going down." The Austrian says and James bolts up, suddenly wide awake.

"Really?"

"Yes, it's only 39.2° now."

Peter moves slightly in his sleep, mumbling nonsense that sounds awfully like com instructions and James lets out a loud sigh.

"Thank god."

They're changing the cold cloths once more before Toto decides it's time for him to drive home too, assuring James he's not too tired and that it's only a short ten minute drive. James reluctantly lets him go, promising Toto to give him an update on Bono the next morning or call him the minute the fever rises again and they have to take him to the hospital. They also agree that there is no way they let Peter travel with them to Hungary, needing more rest before he's completely healthy again and that Toto will have to get another engineer ready for Hungary.

When James is back in the bedroom he manages to get Peter to take a few more sips from the soup before giving him more of the fever juice, his husband still barely awake when it happens.

-

Peter wakes only up on the next day around lunch, feeling slightly more conscious than the past day, the fever down to 38.6°. There is no strength left in his body and James has to help him walk to take a light shower, the sweat from the fever making his pyjamas cling too uncomfortably onto his skin. As soon as he changes into a new set of clothes James has to carry him back, his body too tired from the fever and sickness and he clings to his husband who puts him into one of his big sweaters, having changed their sheets too when he had showered.

"M sorry James." He mumbles when he feels his eyes closing already, hand clasped tightly around James' warm ones, making him feel safe in his husband's arms. 

"It's okay. The most important thing is that your fever is nearly gone." James presses a light kiss onto his still warm forehead and Peter smiles weakly.

"But it's all my fault, because-"

"We'll discuss this another time, okay sweetheart? The most important thing is to get you well again before I'm putting you in five jackets at the next rainy race." He jokes and he feels Peter shaking against him as he laughs a bit, voice still rough from the cough he has.

"Please but I want your jackets, they're so comfortable. And I can show everyone I'm yours."

James rolls his eyes and lightly slaps his husband's arm. "You horny bastard, get healthy again before you even think about such things!"

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: georgerus63


End file.
